


Arts and Crafts

by TaleWorthTelling



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Ultimates, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crack, Crossover, Exhibitionism, Glitter, Masturbation, Other, Sexbots, crack!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 17:18:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4795802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaleWorthTelling/pseuds/TaleWorthTelling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ults Cap just wants a few minutes to relax and forget about the glitter and the sexbots. That's a tall order in this 'verse of depravity and tomfoolery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arts and Crafts

**Author's Note:**

> Bactaqueen is the best and is equally responsible for the madness of this 'verse. It's a pretty great 'verse.

There was glitter in his pubic hair.

Steve had seen a lot of weird shit since slipping through the rift between his world and this one -- and he did, on some level, appreciate how that sentence was also pretty fucking weird. Sex robots manufactured in his likeness, some of them almost human, one of them pouring his drinks. Grown men and women playing childish, nonsensical games. A walking fifty-foot penis and its flying vulva wife giving a speech at a rally. A resort full of people dressed like him shamelessly humping each other in public. Maple syrup in places it didn't belong. He'd even heard of the infamous orgy tape, but elected not to watch it.

But there was glitter in his goddamned pubic hair and that was the last straw. What in God's name was _wrong_ with this universe?

He seriously contemplated just shaving it off to make sure he got it all. He eventually decided not to on the basis that it probably wouldn't even help much and also that he wasn't willing to go through a fistfight with an itchy crotch once it started to grow in. (Not twice, anyway.)

He took a shower instead, scrubbing methodically inch by inch until he was certain that he didn't look like a warped kindergarten arts and crafts project. A grown man playing with glitter, honestly. He couldn't say that he was fond of this universe's Steve Rogers offering, and if his lack of appreciation for the people in his life hadn't sealed it already, the abomination in Steve's pants was reason enough. He still had to wash those and he had his doubts that it would do much good. No, it was in there alright. He was going to end up tracking it back to his world. He just knew that he'd find more of it the very next time he took down his pants with a woman, even if it _looked_ like he'd gotten it all. 

He was so disgusted that he didn't even bother getting dressed. He threw himself onto the bed, barely mussing the hospital corners, and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. Maybe it wasn't terribly mature to brood either, but at least he didn't inflict his habits on others. Well, there was always one option to de-stress. He sighed, wondering if it was worth heading down the road to the sex shop that these Avengers probably single-handedly kept in business or if maybe he could scrounge up a bottle of lube here. It only took a few minutes of poking around in the drawers in the bathroom before a sealed bottle of silicone lubricant turned up. He snorted. Of course.

Like animals, the lot of them.

He hedged for a minute over whether it was worth it, decided to hell with it, and pulled off the plastic with his teeth. He squeezed out a dollop into his palm on his way back over to the bed, trying to conjure up a pleasing image to block out the myriad absurdities he'd spent the week dealing with. And he drew a blank. He huffed, totally flabbergasted. He may have had a reputation and be pushing ninety, but he'd seen plenty of nice breasts in his life. And yet nothing came to mind. All he could think about was that damn convention, a sea of Captain America uniforms with convenient windows and utility pouches full of lube and condoms. One of them had been wearing _nipple clamps_ , for God's sake.

It wasn't doing much for him. In fact, if it weren't for the lube, slightly warmed from his hand, and the nice, slow rhythm he'd started up, a good tug all the way down with a twist of his thumb at the head, he'd be completely soft. God damn it.

A fleeting thought of Gail popped up right on schedule, a certain remedy for this particular ill, but he pushed it aside for the moment, preferring not to think about her just now. Not like this.

He sighed in frustration and used his clean hand to flip on the television, other hand still idly stroking. He'd heard those damn bots mention something about the porn channels they picked up at the facility now, and it had to be worth a shot. He found the menu easily enough and started scrolling through the titles.

Bot porn. More bot porn. Gay porn. _More_ bot porn. An orgy (he wondered if it was the very same one he'd heard so much about and decided not to chance it). It had to be another joke those two clowns were pulling on each other. No one could _possibly_ watch this much robot porn. And all of the _same person_. Every fucking one of those bots was some variation of himself, and it was _weird_. Just ... so very fucking _weird_.

He finally caved and clicked one of them.

"Oh, Captain," one bot purred to another, dressed in silk panties and a feather boa. "You're so _big_ \--"

He flipped to the next one, accidentally gripping himself a little hard in annoyance. He winced, adjusting his grip, and looked up to see what he'd stumbled into now.

An actual woman was onscreen. She might've been just a damn good bot, but at least she had breasts and wasn't trying to pass herself off as Steve Rogers, so he could live with it. She was wearing leather from her neck down, wide hips and full in the chest, and he even managed to ignore that nagging _"probably a spy"_ that reflexively came to mind at the sight of her getup.

And then the camera moved to the bot crouched down at her feet licking her boots and he rolled his eyes. Another one. Figured. Just before he managed to switch the channel, the bot on the floor moaned and cried, "Yes, Mistress Stephanie."

"I told you," she said, and Steve had a sinking feeling, "it's _Captain_."

Fuck. He quickly switched it, scrolling all the way down to the bottom of the list in the hopes that maybe they'd just buried the normal pornography, assuming that everyone here was too perverted to use it.

The last video was titled _Sorry about that, Captain_ , and despite his misgivings, he clicked it.

 _"We know it's been a bit of a culture shock for you,"_ Natasha was saying onscreen, sitting on a couch in a tee shirt and tight shorts. _"And not just the culture. Even for superheroes, life is getting pretty bizarre here. And I can see how it'd be ... difficult to be dropped into. If you're on this channel, then I assume you're looking for something specific and haven't found it yet. And you may not be_ my _Steve Rogers, but you_ are _Steve Rogers, and apparently I have a weakness for sad-sack super-soldiers."_ There was a laugh from off-camera. She smirked. _"Enjoy."_

The camera pulled out. 

At first he wasn't sure what was happening. She was just sitting still, squirming a little, eyes half-lidded. And then she started moaning, and he realized that the muscles in her thighs were flexing rhythmically under her shorts. Her hips started to move in little circles.

And that's when he slammed the off switch so hard that it almost broke.

What the hell. What was going on in this world?

He resolved to just rub one out really quickly, resigning himself to a hasty and unsatisfying but at least relaxing orgasm. He pulled hard, adding a little more lube; quick, twisting strokes with his other hand reaching down to rub his balls and speed it along.

After a minute or so he turned the video back on, fascinated and deeply annoyed by that fact. God, she wasn't even using her hands. It was _mesmerizing_.

Astonishingly, she came first. And she never even took off a shred of clothing or touched herself. 

Pink-faced and relaxed but otherwise totally presentable, she smiled and said, _"We've put the glitter in the closet for the rest of your stay. We're grateful for all of your assistance, and we hope you can enjoy yourself, Steve. You should try to relax."_ She blew him a kiss and the video ended.

What exactly did she think he was trying to do? He grabbed a tissue from the bedside table, and after a few more tugs he finished and cleaned himself up. He lay there for another minute breathing deeply and thinking very hard about what an incredible woman this Natasha was, and also whether to be touched or offended.

In the end he couldn't decide, so he got dressed to go downstairs and brave the bots for a drink.

**Author's Note:**

> One day we'll write about the orgy. And the Cap Kink Cosplay Convention. And Natasha's very special skill.


End file.
